


Self-Assigned Mission

by Merfilly



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Not Canon Compliant, Other, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the defense of New York, an Agent takes on his own choice of mission, to get over his part in events, protect an asset, maybe more. Clint Barton's used to tangling personal and professional, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Assigned Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngeNoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/gifts).



> Dear readers, this is using ONLY the movies up to _The Avengers_ for canon. This was not done to erase any characters, but merely to highlight the chosen pairing set-up here without being disrespectful of other characters.

The team, for they each recognized that they had become one, baptized in alien blood and too many deaths, had scattered to the four winds for protection. Coded words delivered from Nick Fury to both Clint Barton and Natasha Romanova had let them know to disappear for now, to wait for a recall or further orders that came directly from him.

This left the agents a little too loose, so after a brief discussion, Nat chose to shadow the Captain, while Clint went with the logical choice of Stark. Stark would never trust Natasha, not after her mission to keep him under surveillance. But Clint could play up the victim -- and that thought made him shudder, even as he knew he needed to work through it -- to keep Stark on a careful watch. That final battle had taken a lot out of all of them, yet Stark had come the closest to paying the full price, just like…

Clint cut the thought off at the pass. He wasn't any more ready to face the loss of his handler than he was willing to prod through all of what the alien Loki had stolen out of his mind.

* * *

"Agent Barton, I must ask you to remain still. While your efforts to test my security are admirable, Mister Stark abhors being dropped in upon without warning," JARVIS told the agent.

"Actually, I wasn't trying to sneak in; that's just bad habit," Clint told the AI, but he remained right where he was. He could almost feel a tingle, or maybe it was just knowing the level of technology Stark played with, as JARVIS did a full scan to verify who he was. "Stark is in, yeah? Because he's why I came."

"Is this Initiative business, or anything else official?" came from behind him, Stark's voice modified by the suit.

"Neither. Or both. I don't know. I do know I'm a trained killer and espionage agent that doesn't have a job right now, and that makes me itchy," Clint said, slowly turning. He even approved the fact he could see wrist mounted rockets open and ready to fire on him. How could any of them be certain he was truly free of that alien's influence?

"I have a bodyguard, don't much care for babysitters, and no offense, but you're not actually a rocket scientist type. So why come to me?"

"No offense taken, and yeah, not much in common. But…" Clint let his words trail off, then tapped his head. "You got gamed by someone you trusted once. I got brain-fried and used as a weapon. Hoping you can actually help me work through the way I feel about that." It was his way, using honesty, the hardest kind that cut into his own soul, to achieve what he needed to do. This was no different than half a dozen other encounters, he told himself. Coulson would have approved.

Part of that pain must have crossed his face, lending veracity to his words, because the rockets faded into the suit, and Iron Man turned. "Follow me, Bow Boy. I'm not one for pity parties, but what the hell. It's too quiet since the Big Guy decided to go find his girlfriend and make peace with her."

* * *

Two six-packs -- and a pizza that had sparked the great New York versus Chicago style debate -- later, Clint was lounged out on one couch while Tony was sprawled on the other, head hanging down to look at Clint. The agent thought it was hilarious just how drunk Tony would act, even though he knew it was all a sham. 

"You're worried about me going off half-cocked," Tony said, deliberately spacing out the words, as if he was having to work through them in his head.

Clint liked the effort at the act; it was great to stay in character when you were on unfamiliar ground. "Fury would be. Me?" He shrugged as if it were no matter at all. "More worried about me being at large. You don't like being babysat. But maybe you can handle keeping an eye on me until we know my head is mine alone?"

"Do I get to play with your toys?" Tony asked, drawing a smile out of the archer.

"Like I'm going to turn down that chance?" Clint answered, before reaching for the last piece of pizza.

* * *

Pepper gave Clint a smile as he came in, on her way out of the penthouse with more plans for the tower redesign. Clint looked at all the plastic sheeting covering the work in progress, then made his way over to Tony. He couldn't even make himself push to the more professional 'Stark' now that he was fully sober again. There was just something in Tony that, even as Clint looked at this as a mission to keep himself sane and protect such a valuable asset, made Clint want to tighten bonds.

That was exactly how they'd wound up with a Black Widow, so it couldn't be that bad a failing on his part.

"You and she are a good team," Clint said, indicating how fast repairs were coming together. "Interpersonal dynamics smooth?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, made a face, then nodded. "She's Pepper. She keeps me straight when I need to be."

"Should I take that figuratively or literally?" Clint asked without missing a beat.

Tony did at least do him the favor of scoping him out head to toe before replying. "I think we'll just have to see, Bow Boy. After all, that little bit of fun with Mister Bad Fashion Choice might have scrambled more than just your brain."

"Nah. That's all working just fine," Clint said lazily. He was getting the feeling that this self-made assignment, even if it was going to pry at his issues surrounding the brainwashing, might even be fun while he awaited real orders.

Tony met his eyes, then smirked. "Lay your gear over here, Bow Boy, and let me take a break from the Tower designs."

Clint did, and he didn't protest when Tony stayed in his personal space to inspect the loader and individual arrowheads. This could work… and maybe it was for Clint's best interests to choose someone else that had been broken down to basics to watch over.

He thought Phil might even be proud of him, if there was such a thing as an afterlife, for choosing a mission with so many edges. It might even get him the peace to trust himself again, if he let this get as personal as he thought it was going to.

That would make the mission perfect.


End file.
